


Silent Solitude

by kiyala



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-06
Updated: 2008-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryan is slowly going crazy in prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Solitude

  
He's going insane here.

He's really fucking going fucking insane. Fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Head spinning with tunes that he has to tap out on his desk. Fingers aching to pluck out a melody. Shoulder feeling uncomfortably empty without the reassuring weight of his guitar.

The whole playing-air-guitar-thing is _Gavin's_ thing. The thought is like a punch in the face. Guitars. Gavin. The two things he's being pathetic and getting all twitchy without. But he can't help it now. His right hand automatically falls into the same position it's always in when he's holding a pick. Blue picks with a silver G painted on them, to match Gavin's purple ones.

Fucking Gavin. If he's going to leave, he might as well do it _properly_.

The irregular visits are part of what drives him insane. The fact that one day, Gavin will be the first one in during visiting hours, just to sit there and stare at him. Like he's either trying to remind himself exactly why there's bullet proof glass separating them, or confirming the fact that they both still exist, even if they're no longer just an arm's reach or a phone call away.

"…Ach. Daryan," he always mutters, sounding angry, hurt, upset, relieved and so very lonely. Gavin continues, mostly to himself, in German. The words are harder to translate now, because it's been such a long time since he's heard the language. It's not like he'd even spoken it himself, but Gavin's constant use of it had gotten him to the point where he could understand it. He's lost that now and looking at the lines on Gavin's face, he knows it's not the only thing he's lost.

"So. Miss me?"

Sometimes, the question makes Gavin leave right away. Without a word.

Other times, it makes him frown a little less. Makes him reach out and press his hand against the glass. Always his right hand. He shuts his eyes with a sigh and replies, "Like mad. I'm living without my right hand, Daryan."

The chance that he'll get the second response always makes it worth it.

"You're a murderer," Gavin whispers, reminding himself. There is no response. No denial, no confirmation. No pleas for forgiveness. The blond looks up. "You killed a man in cold blood and I still feel incomplete, because it's a part of _me_ behind bars here. How does that work?"

His fingers itch. For music. For Gavin. He keeps them still and shrugs with a smirk. It's the closest thing to a poker face that he's got.

"Dunno, Gavin. Sounds like you're being an idiot."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yours?" The grin widens.

Gavin gets to his feet. Their eyes meet and then they're both standing, staring each other down.

"One year, eight months, two weeks and four days. I have to wait that long before I can beat the shit out of you."

He blinks, taking a moment to realise what Gavin's counting down to. The blond looks away with a frown.

"…I have to wait that long before I can touch you again at all. I'm looking forward to it as though it's the day when _I_ will be set free. What kind of fool have you turned me into?"

"Heh. You make it sound like you're in love with me, Gavin."

"I hate you."

"Love you too."

Gavin turns to the guard, ready to leave. Unimpressed.

The itch in his fingers becomes harder to ignore. His eyes are fixed on Gavin's back, seeing through the jacket, the shirt, the pleasant front he puts up in front of everyone. He thinks of the time when they'd had a little too much to drink and ended up collaborating on a song in the spur of the moment. He can see it clearly in his mind; the delighted sparkle in Gavin's eyes, the way his fingers move, the blond hair falling messily down his shoulders instead of being twisted into that stupid drill.

"Klavier." The word comes out before he can even make the conscious decision to stop himself.

Gavin stops and turns. They look at each other. His fingers twitch.

"Jam with me."

"What…?"

"You, me, guitar, bass. Sing if you want. I just… please."

"The band's finished, Daryan."

"I know that. But… we can still…"

"No."

He clenches and unclenches his hands into fists by his sides. As subtly as he can.

Gavin sighs. He returns to the glass wall between them, pressing his right hand against it.

"One year, eight months, two weeks and four days."

"Is that a promise?"

Gavin turns to leave again. "I'll see you later, Daryan."

x


End file.
